


Bare Necessities

by Original_Cypher



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of 4x20.<br/>Let's imagine Kate is not as dense, or maybe just daring enough and she saw that when she remarked on Castle's dates, he was waiting for her to stop him.<br/>I've rewatched Kill Shot yesterday, and this came to me. In my mind, what is told here would make all the caskett stalling and false starts make sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bare Necessities

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm just playing. I'll give them back. If and when I'm done.  
> A/N: Also, I am aware I'm completely avoiding Castle's side of the lying game they've got going on. But I don't care. Do you?  
> A/N: A shout out to Hazgarn (black_sluggard over on lj) for beta-ing and brainstorming with me. :)

Kate drummed her nails into her palm anxiously. She felt the elevator up was going both way too slow and way too fast for her liking. _Come on, Kate. You're a cop. You've stared down guns a few times. What's this compared to getting shot?_ She told herself. Yet she couldn't help the snarky voice at the back of her mind, which sounded like a mix between Captain Gates and Martha for reasons she wasn't sure she wanted to clarify, from whispering: _Your heart could take a bullet, but this might just do it._

She stepped off the elevator at her usual stride anyway, trying to swallow down the anxiety squeezing her throat so tight. What if she interrupted something? What if Castle wasn't even there and she just had to pretend in front of Martha.

Lanie had told her that she was too late, and once you're too late it's never too soon to do damage control. She hoped her friend was right and opted to knock instead of ringing. It was less intrusive if Castle was 'busy' and wouldn't wake up anyone.

 

xxx

 

Rick drummed his fingertips on the pillow that lay on his belly. He was a master of words, and so far even one gorgeous lady detective had failed to render unable to find some. He'd figure this one out. He had to.

Except he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Lying on his couch, in semi darkness only broken by a table lamp, he tortured his mind.

The idea was to break up his and Beckett's partnership. Without hurting her feelings. Without saying again how he felt since she clearly didn't even find it worth remembering. In a word, sparing their friendship as much as he could, but not exposinghimself more than necessary.

He considered lying and saying he had a new book idea. Pushing Gates to the point that she'd run him out of her precinct. But he owed Kate the truth. More than that, he didn't want to lie to her.

And the most difficult part was that he didn't want to leave. He just needed to. He didn't feel able to move on with her right under his nose every day like a promise of sunnier days dangled in front of him just beyond his reach.

The knocks came soft through the thick door, and he glanced at it over the back of the couch as if it would inform him of who stood behind it. He got up, hoped that Jacinda had truly boarded her flight and wasn't doubling back play out some cheesy The-Holiday-type movie and confess her quickly founded, yet undying love for him.

The last person he expected to see was Beckett.

Well, that wasn't totally true. The very last person he expected to see on his doorstep was Truman Capote, but _Beckett_ wasn't far off.

“Kate.” As surprised as he was to find her there, he couldn't help but register her appearance. She was stunning, as usual, just like he had left her, but though he saw her try to be her customary buttoned up self, her composure looked to be hanging by a thread. He could tell, however, in which direction things would go if that threat snapped. He saw turmoil, but was she shaken and sad or murderous?

He was about to ask her if she was okay, or if something had happened to the boys when she spoke. “... Are you alone?” Her eyes darted past him to scan his living room.

"My mother and Alexis are in bed, but... yeah. If you meant 'alone' alone." He said, side stepping slightly to let her take it in. He would have leered along with his explanation, but the current atmosphere kept him from it.

Kate fidgeted, studying the rug momentarily, then seemed to steel herself and met his eyes. “Can we talk?”

Rick was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it. However, she didn't look pissed, or ready for a round of blame-it-on-Castle. More concerning than that, she looked downright rattled. He had the feeling he wasn't going to get grilled, rather be the listener. “... sure.” He took another step away from the door, reiterating his hint.

While they hovered between the couches irresolutely, he remembered why he was formulating a plan to get out when her arrival had interrupted his thoughts. The tension was excruciating. It felt awkward and completely anti-them. He hated it. He waited, his eyes fixed on her face, until she met his gaze and he could prompt her by hitching his eyebrows up.

"Right, uh..." She took a breath. "I'm losing you."

He stared at her for a beat, stunned that she'd actually acknowledge it. He knew she was a smart woman, however, when it came to the two of them, she had a tendency to turn into a coward. "So you noticed, huh?" he said, trying to keep most of the temper out of his voice.

“Castle, I know how you feel... or felt... about me.”

“I know. You've remembered all along.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “How did you-...” She connected the dots at the look on his face. “Oh.”

“They're called _observation_ rooms, Kate.”

“That's why you...”

If they were going for honesty, he was going to give it his best. “Look, I know I may have acted like a jerk these past few weeks, but I'm just trying to cut my losses here. I'm sorry if I hurt you in the process though.”  
He watched her nod and take it in. He hadn't known, writing _Heat Rises_ , that the ending he chose would feel so predictive. But that was his writer self talking. The boy inside was just heartbroken.

She called out when he turned around to move away. “I feel the same.” But the raise of her voice at the end made him question her certainty.

“Why do you make it sound like a question?”

Her lips parted, sucking in a shaky gasp. “Maybe because the full sentence is: Would it change anything if I told you I feel the same?”

He pondered, then frowned. “Actually. It'd mean I'd need more explaining.”

“About what?”

“As to.. _why not_?”

Kate nodded her head, she'd expected that. She'd come here for that very reason, because he deserved to know, he deserved for her to make sense of... her. “I love you.” she told the carpet. “I've felt this way for a long time. I've...” she bravely met his attentive eyes. “...known for less. And I've come to terms with it... more recently. When I got you back. When I came back to work and you were there and it made me feel so... _I knew_. I knew and I couldn't remember why I thought it was a bad idea. I felt... ready.” However, when he took a step in her direction, she backed away. “But, not-...” she trailed off.

Rick sighed. “What?” He was tempted to ask her what excuse she was about to find now, but she seemed so flustered he didn't. His expression held a mix of reproach, annoyance, hope and kicked puppy.

“I...” Clearly struggling to find the right words, Kate wrapped her arms around herself. Then, like a rubber band snapping, she jumped over the edge and just _said it_. Let out what she couldn't even tell Lanie. "Castle I don't know that I can be intimate with someone. Ever again."

“... What?”

She faced him with an expression full of distress and apology. "I love you, but I don't know if I can... love you, physically."

The way she spoke, the way she held herself, the fear that radiated from her made his blood run cold. "... Kate, you're talking like a rape victim... don't tell me I missed-..."

She gave him a miserable little shrug. "My body was abused." she stated. "By a bullet." Her voice was shaking as she explained. "I... I never told my psychiatrist this, but... it's like it's not mine anymore. Somebody came and marked it as foreign to me. I'm scarred." She met his eyes again. "What if I can never let you see me?"

"Kate..."

"I'll never be enough, Castle. If I can't-..."

He cut in. "You've been enough, so far."

"Yeah. _So far_."

"You said you loved me.” He insisted. “That's kinda... Do you know how long I've thought I was alone in this?"

She looked down. He saw a tear spilling from her lashes. Beyond anything, he'd never wanted to make her cry. "Castle, what if I'm never strong again?"

He walked to her, gently, slowly so she would see him get closer, though he was careful not to look like he was treating her like a spooked animal—even though he was, and she would kick his ass if she noticed. He took a loose hold of her shoulders. “Kate.”

She looked up, blinking tears back.

"You are the strongest person I know. I've seen life kick you down and down again, and you always got back up and kicked right back. When I say I love you and I want you, I don't mean your body. Sure, it is quite awe-inspiring, but that's not what matters and you know it."

"But what if I can never let you see me naked?" she whispered in the space between them.

He shifted his tone completely, to smug and blasé. "I've seen you naked before."

"What?!"

He shrugged, going with their usual banter. "... mostly in my dreams, but... there was this one time when your place blew up."

She swatted his chest, jumping on the occasion of a reprieve. "I told you not to look!"

He held his hands up. "I didn't look! I saw!"

She glared at him for a moment, that shook her head with the closest thing to a grin he'd seen in days.

He watched her for a moment and said. "Show me your scar."

Instantly, she froze. In her eyes, he saw undiluted terror. He suddenly regretted being so mad for the past week instead of questioning why she would keep him away.

Very aware that she could bolt any second, he smiled reassuringly. "Fine. I'll go first." He offered, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. She stared at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Doing my best..” he grunted as he pulled off his undershirt. “...to level the playing field a little bit.” He shifted to the side a little so the light could catch on a star-burst shaped scar on his stomach. The wound was clearly old, halfway on the diagonal between his belly button and the angle of his hipbone. Although it looked cleanly healed and he'd never complained about pain around her, it had obviously been a deep injury. “My meanest.”

Unconsciously, Kate reached out to feel the relief of it with her fingertips, barely grazing. He brought his hand over hers to flatten it to his skin. His stomach felt hot under her palm. The intimacy of the contact, intended or not on his part, made her jaw drop slightly and she gaped up at him. "Bar fight. It was after _A Calm Before The Storm_. I got a little too drunk, chatted up the wrong girl. Boyfriend was a biker."

"Ouch."

"He tried to gut me with a broken bottle."

She looked at the broken lines with renewed horror. "It could have been so much worse."

"It almost was. I got very lucky. Someone broke up the fight pretty quickly after that, and the ER docs caught on to the internal bleeding."

"Shit."

He smiled fondly at her. "I notice you don't swear that often."

"It's warranted."

He grinned playfully. "There's also one on my butt cheek. Funny story about a toy bear trap that was not a toy but really a tiny replica."

Kate snorted and grinned.

"See. That smile is a powerhouse."

It dropped slightly with her uneasiness at the compliment. Gently, he tugged at her sweater. "Your turn.”

Her breath came out with a shudder, and she opened her mouth to speak.

He brushed her shoulder with his hand. "You're safe. It's me. Just me."

She met his gaze with wet eyes. “I'm so ashamed.”

“ _Why_?” He asked it less as a question than as a statement of its absurdity.

She swallowed and dipped her head, then raised her chin like she suddenly decided she was being ridiculous. She fiddled with the hem of her sweater, but it looked more like shyness than apprehension, and pulled up.  
As expected, she had nothing to be ashamed of. Her stomach was toned and tanned, her skin looked smooth, running up and under her simple black bra. It bordered on sporty, which was an appropriate choice for her line of work, she didn't really know how when she would have to take off running.

And then there's the scar. Rick took it in trying to wrap his mind around the idea that this little thing was the aftermath of the biggest scare of his life.

Kate looked as though she was about to cover herself again. “You're beautiful.” He stated. “Even better than I remembered.” Feeling the need to concede it, he added. “Slash, imagined."

She bit her lower lip, she was trembling faintly, but he could see a hint of a smile nonetheless. “Thank you.”

He reached out for her. She almost spoke, but her words died on her tongue as his fingers grazed the skin above her breast, his thumb sliding down to brush over the scar.

“There.” He whispered it.

She was still, stiff as if not running away was taking all her might, all her focus. In an effort to bring her back to him, he stepped closer. Once he got her eyes again, he leaned in, gently, slowly, until he brushed their lips together. She made a soft sound.

It was barely more than a catch of capped skin on chapped skin, but it felt like promised land. He ducked away as she leaned in for more. "Wha-..."

"I'm not done just yet."

She stared at him in horror as he went down on one knee. Then frowned in confusion as he folded his other leg and sat back on his heels, simply watching her.

"Castle?"

"You gonna keep calling me that?"

"Alright, _Ricky_.” she quipped. “What are you doing?"

He took hold of her hand. “Katherine Beckett.” he pressed his lips to her knuckles. “I hereby declare you whole.” He leaned in, rose on his knees to kiss her belly button. “And perfect.” She made a sound like a breathless chuckle.

She tensed up as he moved higher and his face neared her scar, but he still had a hold of her hand, and cupped another one on her spine. Insisting, nudging, though he never forced it upon her, until she lets him close enough to kiss the abused region. "Whole, and perfect." he repeated, like a healing spell, standing up. “And mine.”

She looked at him, nervous and shaken, yet, she smiled. It wasn't wide and sunny -yet, he added inwardly, like a vow-, but it was warm. She tugged him back in.

Their lips met with a new kind of kiss, still gentle and exploring, but not hesitant anymore. They were _done_ hesitating. It was a kiss full of emotion, much like the moment. It held everything they hadn't gotten around to say before. It tasted of ' _finally_ '.

Kate felt him guide her hand back on his stomach, back on his scar. She deepened the kiss and dragged him closer, purring quietly at the satisfaction to run her palm around his waist to his back, naked, broad and for her to grasp.

Somehow, they only toed the border to sexy and wandered into tender instead. They held each other, trading soft kisses. “Are you sure you can handle this?” she asked. She didn't look sacred or on the fence anymore, she was just asking.

“Try me.” As usual, he was ready to meet her challenge, and she knew it.

She chuckled and pulled him back down.

“By the way...” Rick interrupted a while later. “I _knew_ you didn't have a navel ring.”

Kate grinned. “You still haven't seen my tattoo.”

He groaned, squinted at her and tackled her to the couch.

This is where, hours later, they fell asleep together, still half clothed and tangled, under a quilt.


End file.
